


A Scouser in DC

by idontlikegravy (subcircus)



Category: NCIS, Red Dwarf
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-22
Updated: 2010-03-22
Packaged: 2017-10-08 06:25:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subcircus/pseuds/idontlikegravy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave Lister walks into a bar and meets Trent Kort</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Scouser in DC

**Author's Note:**

> For A Ficathon Walks into a Bar

Dave walked into a bar and blinked. He then rubbed his eyes and blinked again before turning back to examine the way he had entered. Behind him was a solid wall and in front of him was a good old-fashioned Earth public house. Except it should have been a storage bay off White Corridor 459.

_Maybe it's another stasis leak_, Lister mused _Or a science experiment gone wrong has opened up a mini wormhole_.

He didn't really have a clue; he usually left the sciencey stuff to Kryten. But whatever the explanation was, he was back on Earth, and best of all he was in a pub. Dave Lister was never one to question good luck. Well, unless there was a possibility that it was some kind of brain-slurping GELF messing with his mind for its own ends.

In this instance he was willing to just accept and enjoy, even if it meant he'd end up a brainless heap on the floor. Actually, if things went well he'd still end up a brainless heap on the floor; but for completely different reasons.

He approached the bar where a lone man was seated on a stool drinking neat whisky. Lister took a stool three away from the man, not wishing to intrude.

"What'll you have?" the bartender asked and Lister was mildly surprised to discover he was American.

"I'll have a pint of lager," he replied.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," said the man on the stool. His accent was English and refined, his tone was as smooth as his silk shirt. "I'm afraid our American cousins still haven't got the hang of beer. He'll have a whisky, and I'll take another," he addressed the last to the bartender and pushed his glass and a note toward him.

"Thanks," Lister replied, very grateful as he'd just realised he had no money on him. Even if he had, he didn't think the DollarPound was legal tender wherever and whenever he was. "Where am I?"

The man laughed.

"Just jumped ship?"

"You could say that, yeah."

The bartender placed a drink before each of them and discreetly retreated. Lister picked up his glass and raised it to his benefactor and then both men drank from their glasses. Lister coughed slightly; it had been a while since he'd had access to any spirit other than advocaat. He eyed the amber liquid in the tumbler appreciatively.

"So, if you don't mind my asking, what brings you to Washington?" the man asked.

"Is that where I am? I really had no idea. What's the date?" Lister asked.

"April fourth."

"Yeah, but um…what year is it?"

The man laughed again.

"Are you sure you haven't already been drinking? It's 2009, of course."

Lister laughed to cover up his shock. 2009? He hadn't even been born yet. How the smeg was he going to get back to Red Dwarf? He leaned across to his companion and stretched out his hand.

"I'm Dave Lister, pleased to meet you."

"Trent Kort," he replied. Kort paused and regarded Lister for a moment before continuing. "You really are lost, aren't you? Stranded on a foreign shore, no friends, no family. And I'm guessing no money. Mr. Lister, I think I might have a job for you."


End file.
